


Please Don't Fear the Reaper

by xXParasolSoulXx



Series: Deadcraft -A Grim Reaper AU- [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Character Death, Character Death Fix, Death, Death From Hypothermia, Exposition, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grim Reaper! Xisuma, Grim reaper au, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Hypothermia Recovery, Implied/Refenced Injuries, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Macabre, Not Beta Read We Die Like Bdubs, Not Canon Compliant, Past Injuries, Permanent Death AU, Permanent Injury Mention, Pocket Watches, Rouge Reaper! Xisuma, Scars, Souls, Souls are Represented as Pocket Watches, Temporary Character Death, Video Game Mechanics, Winged! Grian, tea fixes everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXParasolSoulXx/pseuds/xXParasolSoulXx
Summary: Xisuma was a Grim Reaper. That is to say, he was responsible for reaping the souls of the recently deceased, a responsibility that had been forced upon every reaper that had preceded him, and one that would inevitably be forced upon every reaper that would ever succeed him.Unlike all of them -however- Xisuma despised his duties with every fiber of his being.
Series: Deadcraft -A Grim Reaper AU- [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179620
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	1. Prologue

Xisuma was a Grim Reaper. That is to say, he was responsible for reaping the souls of the recently deceased, a responsibility that had been forced upon every reaper that had preceded him, and one that would inevitably be forced upon every reaper that would ever succeed him. 

Unlike all of them -however- Xisuma despised his duties with every fiber of his being. 

It wasn’t so much an issue of morals that had led him to such disdain -people were going to die regardless of whether he was there to reap their souls or not- it was that he simply couldn’t stomach what the job represented. Xisuma couldn’t reconcile himself with the idea of being seen as the harbinger of death and demise. 

So he began to concoct a plan.

There was one thing Xisuma knew for sure, he wanted to be human. He couldn’t -of course- because no matter how much he wanted to, he would never be able to separate himself from powers he’d been cursed with. That wasn’t going to stop him from trying though. The allure of a quaint, peaceful life unburdened by cosmic responsibility was simply too tempting a prospect not to pursue. So Xisuma bided his time, begrudgingly fulfilling his daily quota of reaped souls while learning all he could about the worlds he was forced to visit and the people that resided there in secret. As time wore on his curiosity and fascination only grew, until the day he finally decided he’d learned enough to put his plan into action. 

He made a world for himself. It was a small and unassuming place, tucked away in a dusty little corner of the multiverse where he was sure the cosmic forces that had for so long governed his life would never find him again. Not that they’d bother looking for him anyway. Whatever ethereal force that created him would probably just whip up a new Grim Reaper to take his place before it bothered looking for the defective reaper that had for so long given it nothing but grief. 

Xisuma could finally relax and live out his eternity in peace like he’d always dreamed.

That was until he realized the one fatal flaw in his master plan. 

He was lonely.

There’s only so much you can try talking to livestock and honey-bees before it just gets a little pathetic after all. 

This realization left Xisuma at an unfortunate impasse. While he’d studied the humans from the worlds he’d visited extensively, he’d only done so from afar. He’d never actually managed to talk to one of them before. Even if he did somehow manage to strike up a conversation, he doubted his invitation would go over well. He had to admit living in a world administered by the incarnate spirit of demise didn’t seem too appealing a prospect. 

Xisuma pondered the issues for days -utterly stumped- until an idea finally struck him. If normal people wouldn’t be keen to accept his invitation, maybe those with no better option would, those who were bound for an inevitably worse fate. Xisuma knew well that it was a reaper’s job to collect the souls of the deceased, but what if a few managed to slip through the cracks? Surely nobody would notice if a handful of should-be-dead souls went unaccounted for, would they? 

Xisuma cracked a smile at the thought. It seemed like he’d finally managed to find a way to put his powers to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was supposed to be an exposition paragraph at the beginning of the main story, but this AU ended up having so much background information that needed explaining I decided it would be better to just make it its own separate chapter. Don't worry, the rest of the story will have a lot more going on in it.


	2. Chapter 1

Deep in the heart of a sprawling taiga forest laid a village. Or more accurately, the remains of what had used to be a village. Xisuma had perched himself atop a nearby cliffside earlier that day and had been quietly overlooking the place ever since. Sitting comfortably within the shadow of the cliff, the village just below was incredibly small, consisting of only a few scattered cottages, some ramshackle farm plots, and a rickety little church that stood eerily in the town’s center. Many of the buildings were barely recognizable as such though, looking more akin to dilapidated heaps of wood and stone. Most were missing walls or windows, some were barely holding themselves upright, and almost all of them were overgrown with thick layers of weeds, moss, and vines. 

At first glance one would assume the place was utterly deserted -Xisuma certainly had at first- but it seemed the all but abandoned town still had one faithful resident. He’d seen them several times today puttering between the decrepit buildings, doing their best to repair and refurbish each structure bit by bit. From what Xisuma could glean, they were single-handedly attempting to restore the village to how it had looked before it’d been abandoned. Xisuma had to admit it was a noble pursuit, but one that would inevitably be the death of them. That’s why he was here after all. 

Xisuma’s musings were interrupted when he noticed the village’s lone inhabitant had finally made another appearance -or as much of an appearance as they could make with the weather in such a state. What had started early that morning as just a pleasant -if unexpected- dusting of snow had since morphed into a downright violent blizzard. Moving carefully as to not alert them to his presence, Xisuma leaned over just enough to make out the details of the person below him.

They stood roughly a head shorter than Xisuma, with dark, wind tousled hair and wide, worried eyes. They were clad in an oversized blue sweater that clearly did nothing to stave off the cold -if the way they were huddled into the blanket around their shoulders was anything to go by. Xisuma didn’t even need his reaper senses to know how woefully unprepared for the storm they were.

But that sense made itself known nonetheless, in a form he had long since grown to despise. 

Ticking. Specifically like that of an old antique clock. 

Grim Reaper’s had an inbuilt way of knowing who around them they’d soon be forced to reap, they could hear that infernal ticking emanating from anyone who was supposed to die soon. It only stops when their time is finally up. The ticking wasn’t particularly loud, nor was it too horribly distracting in most cases, but right now it was lingering just on the edge of his sense, denying him even a moment of peace.

Xisuma wretched himself from his thoughts, searching in vain for a way to drown out the sound that was now ringing in his ears. Desperate for a distraction, he cast his gaze back down to the unfortunate lone villager. They’d spent the last several minutes trudging aimlessly through the snow -leaving criss-crossed trails of footprints in their wake- seeking someplace to take refuge from the cold. Finally, they came to rest in front of the semi-intact remains of one of the houses, barely taking a second to contemplate before darting their way inside. Xisuma almost moved to follow them but thought better of it. If the quickly fading volume of the ticking in his ears was anything to go by, they didn't have much time left.

He didn’t want to be there when it happened.

Xisuma couldn’t help but feel bad -terrible even- for sitting idly by when he knew better than anybody what was about to happen. There was nothing to be done though, no matter how desperately he wanted to help. He’d learned the hard way that no amount of interference -even on the part of a Grim Reaper- could prevent someone’s death once it had been decided they were supposed to die. 

He could certainly intervene afterward -that was the whole foundation of his plan after all- but he’d have to wait first.

He’d always hated that part the most. 

Every agonizing second seemed to drag on longer than the last as he sat alone in the bitter cold, torn between trying to ignore the ticking noise that lingered on the edge of his sense or indulging his morbid curiosity and listening in. Unable to reach a decision, he resorted to finicking with the tattered edge of his sleeve as a distraction, half-listening half-not as his vision darted everywhere but the village beneath him.

The ticking finally stopped.

Xisuma couldn’t help the feeling of dread that welled up in the pit of his stomach at that realization. He shoved that feeling aside as he began to scale down the cliffside. Crossing the snow-covered ground between the cliff’s edge and the village, Xisuma found himself standing in front of the house he’d seen them enter. He lingered in the doorway for a moment before entering. 

The inside of the house was in just as poor of a condition as the outside was, with snowdrifts spilling in from broken walls and frost clinging to the vines and ivy that snaked across the weathered paneling. He took a few hesitant steps inside, cringing at how the old floorboards creaked as he walked. Seeing no sign of anyone downstairs, he made his way to the staircase. The steps whined beneath his weight, and for a moment he was afraid they’d give out from under him. When he was absolutely sure they wouldn't he slowly made his way up the remaining stairs. 

The top floor of the house was occupied by a bedroom, with a few pieces of furniture strew haphazardly around the place and a shabby bed tucked away in the furthest corner. That was where Xisuma found them, tucked beneath a nest of moth-eaten blankets that had done nothing to ward off the cold. 

Xisuma pitied them. While it was far from the worst way he’d ever seen someone die, it was certainly still a sorry way to go. He didn’t have time to waste ruminating though, he had a plan to execute and limited time to do so. Nudging a nearby chair towards the bedside, Xisuma settled down and started his work.

After years of reaping souls, the first steps of the process came to him with a practiced sort of ease he knew he’d never be able to shake. It was in the steps that followed that his confidence began to diminish. Held warily in his hands was a soul, which had the property of taking the form of a pocket-watch when handled by a reaper. The whole ticking thing wasn’t just symbolic after all. Right now though the ticking had grown still, and the clock had gone silent. While it was an unspoken rule that a reaper was never supposed to restart a stopped clock, now that Xisuma was outside of cosmic jurisdiction there was nothing technically stopping him. It was a finicky process however, he’d learned from experience that even when carried out seemingly perfectly sometimes a clock would just refuse to start. Dredging up the remnants of his confidence and pushing aside his frayed nerves, Xisuma began his work in earnest.

After a handful of minutes that seemed like hours to Xisuma’s hyper-focused brain, he finished his work with a final click of the mechanisms. For a moment nothing happened, and Xisuma held his breath, fearing that it hadn’t work. With a stutter and a skip, the hands resumed ticking a few seconds later. Xisuma gave a tremendous sigh of relief before dispelling the ethereal pocket-watch from his hand. He turned his attention back to the bed, awaiting a reaction from the still form beneath the cluster of blankets. 

All at once they jolted themselves awake, eyes wide and face twisted into a look of caricaturesque confusion. They inhaled sharply -as if suddenly realizing they hadn’t been breathing- causing them to devolve into a minor coughing fit as they fought to catch their breath. Once their breathing finally evened out they took a few glances around the room, finally taking notice of the ominous figure at their bedside.

Upon locking eyes with the shadowy, dark-robed figure they rightfully began to panic, backing themselves against the nearest wall in a fruitless attempt to put distance between themself and Xisuma.

“W-Who are you?” They stammered.

“The Grim Reaper-” He answered plainly. “-but you can call me Xisuma if you’d prefer.”

Their face grew deathly pale upon hearing his response. A beat of silence passed between the two before they managed to squeak out a response. 

“Am I going to die?”

“You already did, actually-” Xisuma ignored their bewildered spluttering as he continued. “I’d like to offer you a second chance at life if you’d be willing to take it.”

“O-Of course!” They responded almost instantly, relief palpable in their voice.

Xisuma smiled -though he doubted they could see it- his voice losing its formal edge as he went on.

“I’d love to explain more, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch at the moment-” He admitted. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s a Nether Portal nearby, would you?

Xisuma nervously shuffled a Flint-and-Steel from his inventory as he awaited a response. The new Grim Reaper would be here to properly reap their soul any minute now, and frankly, he hadn’t yet figured out what to do should he ever run into them. 

“T-There’s one on the edge of town-” They responded after a moment of thought. “It’s not in the best shape, but you should still be able to light it.”

As they shakily got to their feet, Xisuma suddenly realized they weren’t just stuttering out of nervousness. They’d already started shivering again, and it was evident in their voice. Upon realizing this, Xisuma hastily undid the clasps on his cape, clumsily tucking it around their shoulders.

“It’s not much, but it should help keep the cold out at least a bit.” He explained, hoping they couldn’t see his sheepish grin. 

“T-Thanks.” They murmured, adjusting the cape around their shoulders. 

With that, the two set off towards the aforementioned portal, the only sound passing between them being that of the snow crunching beneath their feet. Uneased by the silence, Xisuma decided to pose a question.

“I never did happen to catch your name.” He mentioned, doing his best to speak up over the snowstorm. 

“Bdubs-” They answered, looking up from where their eyes had been trained on the snow. “-my name’s Bdubs.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Bdubs, though I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances.” Xisuma rubbed at the back of his neck as he spoke.

“It’s better than the alternatives.” Bdubs responded with a rueful chuckle. 

“You’ve got me there.” Xisuma relented.

By the time they reached the edge of town, the two had settled into an amiable silence. 

Before them now, tucked away in a man-made clearing, stood a hollow, overgrown obsidian portal frame. The portal’s magic had long since been extinguished, but the frame itself was still in a workable condition. Sparking the Flint-and-Steel against the frame, a plane of ash grey magic roared to life where the portal’s own magic had once resided. Stepping onto the frame’s edge Xisuma extended a hand to Bdubs, who graciously accepted it, clambering onto the portal frame with him. With one final cautionary glance back, they stepped through the portal together. 

With a crackle of transitional magic, the two found themselves standing squarely in the middle of the community building on Xisuma’s server. It was a simple place, with a low ceiling and wood-paneled flooring, but it held all the communal accommodations necessary for someone who didn’t yet have a permanent base. Sat towards the building’s rear, seemingly unaware of the two new arrivals, were the server’s only other two residents. At the moment, they were all but engrossed in a game of cards, with a deck spread haphazardly between them and a janky scoring sheet tucked just beside them. Xisuma cleared his throat, handily getting the two’s attention, before turning back to Bdubs with a look of concern. Even in the comparatively warmer interior of the build, he was still shivering badly, trying in vain to tuck himself even further into the blanket he’d brought with him and the cape Xisuma had lent him. 

“Grian-” He called to the shorter of the two. “There are some spare blankets in the closet down the hall, go grab a couple and bring them back here.” 

Grian -who somehow stood even shorter than Bdubs- had wild dirty-blonde hair and an almost perpetually mischievous expression. He wore a loose red jumper with almost comically oversized sleeves that draped over his hands, and a pair of tattered jeans. A pair of downy white wings protruded from his back, but they were misaligned and mangled -as if the bones in them had been broken and never healed right. 

Grian gave a lazy salute in acknowledgment before setting off towards the specified hallway. Xisuma turned to the taller of the two, giving them their own set of instructions. 

“Mumbo, you try and get Bdubs settled in.” He gestured broadly to a small sitting area on the opposite side of the room. 

Mumbo -in contrast to Grian- stood a few inches taller than Xisuma, with comparatively well-kempt black hair and a dapper mustache. He was dressed in an outfit that vaguely resembled that of a hobbit, though he at least had the good manners to wear shoes. His skin was conspicuously marred by dozens of small, half-healed scars that covered just about every exposed part of him, with a cluster of noticeably worse marks across his face. 

Mumbo made a small, affirmative noise in response. With that settled Xisuma began to step away, only stopping to nudge Bdubs slightly towards Mumbo, since he seemed almost hesitant to leave his side. Once Mumbo had gotten Bdubs seated and Grian had returned with an armload of blankets, Xisuma made his way to the nearby kitchenette, set on preparing some tea for everybody - especially Bdubs. Having something hot to drink would definitely help with warming him up. As he went about gathering the needed resources, he absently tugged down the hood of his robes. 

Aside from his spectral violet eyes, Xisuma looked fairly normal, with a head of mismatched black curls and a dusting of freckles across his nose. 

As the water on the stovetop began to boil, Xisuma hunted down a few remaining additives for the tea. While Mumbo preferred his plain he knew Grian liked his with sugar, and Xisuma himself was rather partial to honey. 

“How do you prefer your tea Bdubs?” Xisuma asked.

Bdubs perked up from where he’d been exchanging pleasantries with Mumbo and Grian, turning to answer Xisuma. 

“With sugar preferably-” He responded. “-but not too much.”

“Duly noted.” 

While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Xisuma quietly listened in on the conversation in the other room. 

“It’ll be nice not to be the only short person on the server for a change.” Grian casually remarked.

“Hey, who are you calling short!?” Bdubs shouted in mock offense. “I’m 5’7” -that’s average!”

“Not with this giant around it’s not.” Grian gestured to Mumbo with his thumb.

“I mean, I’m definitely tall, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a giant.” Mumbo responded.

“You’re literally the tallest person I’ve ever met.” Grian replied.

Bdubs eyed Mumbo for a few seconds before answering.

“Me too, honestly.” He said with a shrug.

Xisuma had to stifle a giggle as he loaded the now finished tea onto a carrying tray, carefully balancing it as not to spill anything. Transferring the tray to a nearby coffee-table, Xisuma claimed a mug and finally took a seat with the others. Mumbo grabbed his next, followed by Grian, who had to lean dangerously far from his chair to avoid getting up, almost spilling the mug’s contents on himself in the process. Having finally wormed his way out of his blanket cocoon, Bdubs carefully snatched up his own. With the tea all distributed and Bdubs thoroughly warmed up, the four settled in for a night of chatting and getting to know the server’s newest addition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a bit of an out-there concept for an AU, but I liked the idea of it so much I just had to write it. I have plenty of other ideas for it too, and I wouldn't be against writing more if people end up liking this enough. I'm definitely going to need a short break though because writing -and especially editing- this kicked my ass a little.


End file.
